But once the vessel cracks, the like can get in. Before that we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade but never looking inside. When did we see each other face-to-face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. And it's only in that time that we can see each other, because we see out of ourselves through our cracks and into others through theirs. And I mean, yeah, once the vessel cracks open, the end becomes inevitable.But there is all this time between when the cracks start to open up and when we finally fall apart. And the vessel starts to crack open in places. And these things happen-these people leave us, or don't love us, or don't get us, or we don't get them, and we lose and fail and hurt one another. Like each of us starts out as a watertight vessel. "Maybe, it's more like you said before, all of us being cracked open. You can imagine another well- but not quite perfectly, you know? But we're not different sprouts from the same plant. The grass got me to you, helped me imagine you as an actual person. But the strings make pain seem more fatal than it is.We are not as frail as the strings would make us believe. If you choose grass, you're saying that we are all infinitely interconnected, that we can use these root systems not only to understand one another but to become one another. If you choose the strings, then you're imagining a world in which you can become irreparably broken. But you have to be careful which metaphor you choose, because it matters. We don't suffer from a shortage of metaphors, is what I mean. But there are a thousand ways to look at it: maybe the strings break, or maybe our ships think, or maybe we're grass - our roots are so interdependent that no one is dead as long as soneone is still alive. “When I've thought about him dying - which admittedly isn't that much - I always thought of it like you said, that all strings inside him broke.
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